Immortal
by H. C. Lewis
Summary: Fate brought them together, yet destiny will tear them apart. How can love seem possible in a place where nothing is what it seems? {a tragic, bittersweet J/S romance.}
1. Chapter One

Immortal By DarkAngel-Hotaru (_A Work in Progress_)

"_Is it all a dream, like Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, or Dorothy's in The Wizard of Oz? In my own it is. But it's all rather ambiguous-dream or reality? Fantasy or fact? It's whatever you like it to make it. Wherever it takes you to_." -----Jim Henson 

Chapter One ________________________________________________

Sara sat, numbly gazing out of her bedroom window. The bright morning sun drifted though the frosty layers of glass, enlightening Sara's pale features with its soft glow. Her long, dark hair haphazardly cascaded down her back and over her wiry shoulders. Her eyes of pale hazel rapidly darted about every spot within the four-acre scrap that her father dubbed their yard. She noisily exhaled and tightly fused her sore eyelids together. A spine-tingling sensation coiled down the flesh of Sara's arched back. She violently shuttered. Sara had witnessed another mind-boggling nightmare and it did not help to think about them. 

For countless years, or as long as she could remember, Sara had been possessed by disturbing, spine-chilling dreams. She looked upon them as dreary mental pictures that appeared to her when she is sleeping and even when she is conscious. Every otherworldly illusion has been different and unfamiliar to her, but each one evolved around the same place, a Labyrinth, a maze chalked full of deadly twists and dark, mystifying creatures. The hallucinations of this nightmare was dissimilar from the others, this one included one out of the ordinary attribute, her. 

In the dream, Sara had been fifteen, not her normal age of seventeen. Her parents were apart, just like in real life, only her father was remarried, a falsely represented fact. Sara's father and the newly acquainted stepmother chose to leave her at home with the baby while they enjoyed a night out on the town. The fifteen-year-old stubbornly wished her baby brother away to the Goblin King, who gladly took him. 

_The Goblin King._ _Jareth._

Another cold spell wrapped its icy fingers around Sara's warm flesh, more chills. Sara was terribly frightened of that cruel man with a heart that seemed to be chipped away from a block of ice. Sara could feel hot tears burning from the corners of her sleep exhausted eyes. A largely budding mass of dread churned its ugly self from within Sara's stressed gut. 

Sara had overpowered him within the hazy depths of her childish nightmare. All of the victims inside her imaginings never complete their quest to the castle beyond the Goblin City, but come what may, she had. That single thought gave Sara some sense of relief, but very little. 

_You have no power over me..._

Those were the fifteen-year-old's words to the dreadful beast. They worked, sending the mystic being back to the shadowy depths of the labyrinth hell from which it came, in turn, releasing the baby back into Sara's care. Why couldn't Sara be as courageous as she had been within her daydream? 

Sara's eyes quickly sprung ajar, eyelids with long, darkened lashes fluttered, while her eyes tried in vain to adjust to the brightness of the radiant sunlight. Another exaggerated sigh abandoned from the pits of Sara's parched throat. It's not real, she quickly reminded herself. 

_Then why does it not feel that way?_

She tenderly licked the dry, cracked surface of her lips and gracefully removed herself from her windowsill perch. Sara had packing to do. Her mother would be here at any given minute. 

A tapping sound echoed from the outside of Sara's bedroom door. Sara did not lift her glaze from the packing of her purple knapsack. She loudly called out, 'Come in,' while stuffing a white T-shirt into the bulging pack. The brass doorknob quivered, turned and her father awkwardly entered. 

Unknowing what to say, he scratched the top of his thinning scalp and inaudibly watched his only child pack her things. He swallowed, wetting the dryness of his throat. 

"Do you need any help?" 

Sara glanced at her aging father for the first time since he entered with an astounded look flashing onto her delicately fashioned features. Realization with her father's hushed words overwhelmed Sara's senses and she calmly shook her head no. 

"I am almost done. Thank you." She flipped her dark hair behind her shoulders and began to zip the packed knapsack up. Sara angrily groaned and heaved at the crammed knapsack with the heel of her hand, forcing the two sides of the stubborn zipper to come together. The sound of steady zipping interrupted the quiet silence. A triumphant grin whizzed over Sara's beaming face. 

Sara's father chuckled at his daughter's beaming success, but his laughter faded and sorrow reclaimed its place upon his maturely aging face. He smiled sadly as Sara flung the full-to-bursting knapsack over her shoulders. He hated to see her leave. 

"Your mother is downstairs." 

Her father coughed. His voice had begun to crack. Sara warmly smiled at her father. She loved the shyly natured man with all her heart. He had cared for Sara all of her life, especially after her mother had left them both in order to pursue a career as an actress. 

Sara leisurely sauntered over to her father, briefly smiled again and reassuringly patted him on the arm. Her father took her into his arms and gave her a big hug and affectionately kissed her upon the forehead. "You shouldn't keep her waiting Sara." 

Sara solemnly nodded in agreement and detached herself from her father's loving embrace. 

"I know," Sara answered numbly. She shifted the heavy weight of her knapsack and revolved away from her father steady glaze. With a profound sigh, Sara descended down the stairs to meet her awaiting mother. 

-*)____________________-(___~*~___)-____________________(*- 

Sara's mother waited feverishly at the bottom of the stairs. Lydia tugged on the ends of her dark, curly hair and nibbled on the fat of her full, lower lip. She caught a glimpse of her teenage daughter tromping down the stairs, clad in a white-gold peasant cut top with faded bell-bottom jeans. She dropped her hair and ceased her nervous chewing. 

"Ready?" she asked Sara, who just made it to the last step. Sara did not answer, but curtly shook her head yes. Sara shifted the weighty pack on her shoulder. 

"OK, then," her mother replied shortly in response to her daughter's impolite actions. Lydia hit the palms of her hands together as a happy dumbfounded look spilled over her face. "Let's go before the weekend runs out. Say good-bye to your dad." 

Father and daughter energetically hugged. Sara's father allowed her to leave and miserably watched as she followed her mother out of the house, closing the door behind her. 

Sara threw her belongings into the back-seat of her mother's dark, shimmering orange 1995 Mitsubishi Eclipse. "Don't look so blissful, honey." 

Sara meekly peeked above the hood of the car towards her mother, shocked that she was being spoken to. Her mother grinned, flashing a smile identical to Sara's own. Sara giggled, forgetting her gloom and recalling how good it felt to see her mother again. 

"Look your father is a window peeper!" 

Sara rapidly turned to where her mother was pointing. Sure enough, there was her father in the living room longingly peering out of the bay-style window. The two women happily waved good-bye to the man now seeking sanctuary behind the shadows the egg shell-white curtains. 

Sara's father blushed, knowing that he had been spotted. Dismissing the draperies from his fingers, he lightheartedly waved back as the two seated themselves in the sport compact. He watched on, as the car started up with deafening roar. He chuckled to himself, remembering his ex-wife's fondness for street performance cars. 

The car unhurriedly backed out of the pebbled drive and onto the paved street. It rocketed off, quickly disappearing from his view. Sadness tinted his emotions, as he painfully twisted away from the observation of a vacant drive. The curtains plunged back over the large window, blocking all views of the outside world. Little did he know, this would be the last time that he would ever see his beloved daughter again. 

-*)____________________-(___~*~___)-____________________(*- 

An awkward silence drifted between mother and daughter. Lydia faked coughing, trying to break the quietness between them. It did not work. Sara still aimlessly gazed out of the darkly tinted window at the swiftly transpiring landscape. The sport compact zoomed by Nex Bixby Road. Her mother lived on that street! An alarm flashed within Sara's mind. 

_Aren't we supposed to be spending the weekend together, not running away!_

"Mom, where are we going?" Sara asked. The tone of bewilderment ran high in Sara's non-tranquil voice. Signs of worry and dread began to show within the girl's eyes. Her mother paid no heed and continued on with her tense driving. Silence continued to drift between them and still no answer. Sara began to feel annoyed with her mother. 

"Mom?" 

"What?" Lydia snapped, darting out of her numb state of mind. 

"Where are we? You missed the turn on Bixby!" Sara venomously screeched, her hazel eyes bulging out of their sockets. Sara's mother sighed, trying to relieve the oncoming tension that her daughter's hasty spell of worry brought upon her. 

"We are not going home, Sara," her mother calmly answered. Sara huffed and smugly crossed her arms over her chest. 

"Then where are we going?" 

"You'll find out when we get there." Sara felt like a two-year-old child, burdened with the undying plague of curiosity. She angrily rolled her eyes and returned to her window out looking the blurry outside world. 

The minutes seemed to pass by like long, numerous hours. The ongoing silence was insufferable for Sara. She secretly wished that they would end up at their distention soon. Sara got her wish when they pulled into the gravel drive of a tiny park. 

Sara impatiently twisted from behind the snugness her safety belt. It tightly held her onto the seat and she quickly unfastened the red painted buckle, releasing herself. Sara poised herself inches from the window's glass, slightly fogging it. The car slowly crept to a stop. Sara's nimbly darting eyes quickly read the white lettered sign displayed a couple of feet from the parked vehicle. 

**Nex Bixby Woodland Forest, Recreation Center** it read. Sara was shocked and rapidly twisted away from the clouded window. Confusion developed around her as if she were in a dim haze. 

_What are we doing here?_

Lydia removed her car keys from the ignition and uprooted herself from the driver seat. She slammed the door shut behind her, more confusion reared from within Sara. A tapping came from the window, causing Sara to spring out of her befuddled condition. It was her mother. 

"Are you coming?" She asked with a sweet and loud voice. Sara swallowed and her chest heaving slowly started to breathe again. Her heart beat quickly, forcing Sara to believe it would burst into flames. Sara angrily growled and strove to bash the door into her mother, who had already foreseen her daughter's violent intentions and swiftly moved. 

"Let's get going," Lydia said snickering at the angered and dismayed Sara. 

They began to walk through the tiny park, upon lush carpets of green grass. Sara followed silently behind her brown corduroy, white sweater clad mother. Small children played around them and their cheerful laughter filled Sara's ears. The fresh, crisp smell of newly cut grass filled her nostrils. Sara hurriedly ran, trying to catch up to her mother's quickening pace. A dark, lingering forest appeared at the end of the park, looming before the two park hikers. 

Sara's mother entered the edge of the forest. Standing between two tall, gnarly barked trees, she quickly turned. Sara hesitated. 

"Are you coming?" 

Sara uneasily swallowed, dampening the scratchy dryness that started to occur deep within her throat. She tried to push her arising fear back down into her clamped gut. Unsuccessful, Sara took a trembling step forward. 

The womanly pair walked through the dimly lit area. Sara lingered close to her mother, like a frightened animal on a short leash. The sun streamed down from the lushly leafed treetops, producing minute, reflective pools of golden light to gather about the forest floor, illuminating the way. Haphazardly floating dust fragments enlaced within the beaming strands of the sun's pools, casing a serene, magical warmth into the air. Leafs and sticks vociferously crackled beneath the weight of Sara's feet. Goose flesh formed at the base of her neck, while cold shivers snaked down her trembling spine. She harshly rubbed her hands against the thin fabric on her upper arms. Sara could taste the coppery bitterness of blood from the inside of her mouth. In the amidst of her growing fear, Sara had bit her lower lip, forcing it to bleed. 

They continued on a short while longer when Lydia finally stopped before a small clearing. Sara gasped at the sight before her. An opening appeared in the trees and the sun fell through, mingling the colors together, throwing the shadows of the leaves onto her face. Intensified green ivy vines with broad leafs, edges sketched with white hues, crawled up the trees, like beautifully spiraling serpents. The ground of dark, rich soil was covered with orange, yellow and red hued leaves and fallen acorns. The roots, made up of twisted shapes, formed interwoven seams into the ground's enriched surface around tiny, sweet-smelling multicolored flowers. Sara closed her eyes and inhaled the air, the smell dampened soil and the fresh aroma of flowers splashed into her senses. Fear waning, the trickling sun's passion enthralled her soul and body, calming Sara into a peaceful composure. 

Sara's eyes flickered open, her brief smile faded. A man dressed in dark clothing stood in the clearing. His aged hands were crossed over his black velvet robes, an evilly menacing smile claimed the wrinkled depths upon his leathered face. He had not been there before. Alarm and tension skyrocketed into Sara, numbing into the spot where she stood. 

-*)____________________-(___~*~___)-____________________(*- 

"I see you brought the girl," the elderly man called to Sara's mother with a wispy voice. "Very good indeed." 

He removed a gnarled, long fingered hand from the one of the many folds in his dark cloaks. Horror shook throughout Sara's uncomfortably paralyzed body. Sara's eyes glimmered with the wetness of upcoming tears as the man approached her. She trembled. Shock arose in the depths of the man's white glazed yellow eyes. 

"The poor thing is frightened," the man croaked, spinning to face Sara's mother. Evilly glaring at Lydia, he spoke again. "You did not tell her of my arrival?" 

Lydia shook her head no, quickly succumbed before the darkly dressed figure and spoke a brief apology. 

"There hasn't been the time, my lord." 

The man disgustedly sniffed at Lydia and heatedly returned back to Sara. His sudden repulsion melted away as he sought out for her with a single hand of sharp, yellowed nails. Sara quickly looks away from his sweeping fingers of mangled bone to the moss devoured ground. Her dark hair silently extended over her paled face, shielding her from the stranger's constrained gaze. 

"I mean you no harm, child with the heart of a frighten dove," the man whispered in a voice as gentle as a midsummer's night breeze. He lightly touches Sara's chin with the tip of a gnarled finger, lifting her head into the hazy, magically dusted light. 

Sara blinked, once, gathering enough courage to stare into the old man's eyes. A wispy murmur escapes the man's thin lips. Dropping her chin, the man begins to walk circles around Sara, examining her. The glazed eyes of pale yellow burn into Sara's youthful flesh, stigmatizing her with shame and terror. 

"The child has your beauty, Lydia," The mystical stranger finally remarked, after a long ghastly silence. He coughs, film sputtering from down within his aging lungs, banging his hand against his chest the coughing stops. He turns away from Sara and the catlike eyes glance at her mother. The sweet feeling of relief consumes her, but the dark robed man briefly glances back toward Sara, ending it. 

"This is a good factor for the bride of the king." 

_WHAT! _

The bunt message warped throughout Sara's confused brain as shock overwhelms her. She gasped, struggling for much needed air. Sara felt like she was going to kill over from the shock, but the fainting spell never came. 

Sensing Sara's rejection, the man wickedly smirked. "Your mother will explain to you the details of your task, dear sweet Sara. Until then, we have a parallel journey to make." 

The man elevated a thin palm upward into the air. A violent breeze begins to stir among the treetops, enshrouding the bright sunlight from the trio on the forest floor. Sara swiftly covered her face and curiously peers out between her fingers, as a cylindrical funnel of wind, laced with dead brush and fallen leaves, develops around the man. 

A sudden bright flash of silver blasts from the wizard's long fingertips, glimmering with awe, it radiates into silent explosion. Slowly glistening into nothingness, the light fled into a glittering void, revealing a vast, mystic door. 

The wind began to settle and the lingering sparks of magical silver, dimmed and twinkled down into the forest vegetation. Sara slowly lowered her hands, her mouth in an O of amazement. The enchantment of the creepy man was magnificent, but the door he created was even better. 

Carved of white marble, shapes of waning moons and glittering gems of every color adored the large entryway. It was beautiful. Sara numbly took a step forward, wide-eyed with awe. 

She eagerly stared on as the robed man lifted both of his hands into the air, pressing them closely together as if he were praying, then, he speedily withdrew them fiercely apart. The door glowed a hazy, silver-blue and began to quiver upon its magical hinges. The possessed quivers transformed into a shake and then into a violent rattle of insane frustration. It stopped with a jerk, startling Sara and causing her to frightfully recoil by jumping backwards. 

The door, without any warning, spilt down the center and sprung open with a terrible demon-like force. Hot air, enlaced with luminously ultraviolet rays of white light, blasted at the group, tearing at their flesh, causing them to gasp and cough. Terror rapidly engulfing her, Sara hid her eyes within the shadows of her arms as screams fled her throat. 

With a wild screaming howl, resembling that of a raging animal, the light back drafted through the opened doorway. Sara blinked, trying to shake away her nerve numbing fear. An astounded gasp drifted though her open lips as she lowered her hands. An enchanted land was reviled through the open doors. 

Hills hung over the countryside, their red-clay mounds stood above the dry, sandy plains. They were eerie and loomed, protruding in every direction, high into the sky and as far as the eye could see. The shadows they cast were large, obscure and withdrawn. The scorching wind blew up the red dust in forceful gusts into the dusty redness of the sky. 

Deep with the valleys of the clay-baked cliffs, lay a sublime maze, filled with twists and deadly turns. Within the center of the maze lay a dank city. The city protected a heightened castle, which emerged into the bleakly colored sky. Its towers of darkness cast shadows onto the maze's exalted walls. 

_Is that the castle beyond the Goblin city..._

A tidal wave of dread filled panic flourish over Sara's trembling body. Her throat grew bone dry as a frightening message flashed with her brain. Her nightmares were real! 

_Labyrinth..._

_________________________________________________ 

_Disclaimer:_ _I do not claim to own the Labyrinth nor do I claim to own any of its characters. All characters and original plot ideas belong to the Jim Henson Company and LucasFilm LTD. However, I do own the ideas and characters not expressed in the film. Please do not take them._


	2. Chapter Two

Immortal By DarkAngel-Hotaru (_A Work in Progress_)

"_Is it all a dream, like Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, or Dorothy's in The Wizard of Oz? In my own it is. But it's all rather ambiguous-dream or reality? Fantasy or fact? It's whatever you like it to make it. Wherever it takes you to_." -----Jim Henson 

Chapter Two ________________________________________________

The cool night wind blew through the unclad branches of the indistinct forest's staggering trees. Their gapped canopies allowed silvery moonlight to mingle with the darkness of the shadows. The beams of dim light shined down, illuminating the decaying rot of vegetation on the forest floor. The light from the waning slice of moon had very little lightening effect within the gloomy blackness. Balls of fiery white light, known as stars, were cloaked by a vision of blurring, vaporous fog. A bird of prey, an owl, screeched from a nearby gnarled tree branch, once and then again. The white-brown feathered owl hunched over, blinking into the night's darkness. Its hunting calls were unheard and fell onto the deaf ears of the night's deadly silence. 

She ran faster. Sighs of intrepid fear glinted over her blanched features. Her paled eyes of liquid silver-blue grew wide as fear budded deep with inside her. Frosty air misted from her parted lips in heaved puffs. Its iciness gripped at her warm flesh with cold, solitary fingers. The frightened woman ran on, struggling to escape. 

She jumped over a gnarled, uprooted tree. The woman fell onto the dampened earth. Cold air paraded into her aching, numbed lungs, causing her chest to sting. She screamed silently as pain soared throughout her aching knees and legs. Blood pulsed through her head, obliging her to feel lightheaded and weak. Despite piercing pain of aches and bruises, she pushed herself up from the ground with a single hand, the other held a bundle of faded cloths to her chest. 

Mud slid across the palm of her open hand, dirtying it and momentarily disgusting the running fugitive. She quickly brushed her palm against the white skirts of her long following gown. An eerie howl echoed thought the silent night. The night bird chirped from its perch. The snow haired woman quickly twisted away from her moonlit path to freedom, her heart racing with a wave of upcoming alarm. 

She swallowed, as gut wrenching fear swirled from deep down inside of her. Tears undertaken by piercing waves of pain, began to form within her terror stricken, blue eyes. The tall woman silently moaned and bit her lips. With a state of mind laced with the heart warping emotions of agony and fearfulness, she clenched her swaddling collection blankets close to her heavily breathing breast, turned and ran. 

The howl echoed through the night again, closer this time. Paralyzing distress ran rapid through the woman's trembling body, making her freeze. She twisted around, an idle shadow darted through the hazy brush of the forest. Another eerie, hungry wail sliced through the woman's ears. Trembling and frozen with sudden breathlessness, she tried to run again. The outstretched skeleton-like arms of a nearby sapling caught against the silky fabric of her gown, holding her in place. 

The shadow was nearin. It outlines merged into the solemn moonlight, formulating shape of a wolf. It snapped angrily at her, growling at her hungrily. Slimy, clouded drool dipped eerily down from its snarled pink-black lips. White dagger-like teeth glistened in the dim light. The hunter could smell the woman's growing fear. A howl escaped from it's drool covered muzzle, allowing the quiet night to know that the rabid animal had caught it's prey. 

An earth shaking scream escaped from her trembling lips. The woman stammered, mind blank due to the overwhelming amount of fear within her. Fearsome sobs caught in her dry throat. Pain soared through her as cool tears fell irregularly down her flushed, warm cheeks. Unknowing want to do as the animal encircled around her, growling mechanically. With one hand, she furiously tugged on the hem of her long skirt, trying mindlessly to free herself from her dooming prison. 

The branch snapped, forcefully sending her sprawling onto the hard earth, with a scream. Air whooshed from her parted lips, knocking the wind out of her. Her head snapped forward, causing more agonizing woe to twist though her beat-up body. Her bundle fell onto the ground, tumbling away from her sprawled reach. The woman dug her long fingers into the damp soil, desperation washed throughout her troubled mind. She reached blindly into the darkness, seeking her precious cargo. Finding nothing, despair and agony overtook her. 

"NO!" Her shaking voice choked out the words. Failure broke her aching heart and her growing despair rammed the knifes of helplessness deeper into her weakening psyche. Feverish beads of perspiration trickled down her pale face mixing with the bitter tasting tears of her anguish. Weak pants trembled from her lips as she lay helplessly sprawled on the rotting forest floor, watching her predator pace at her sore feet. 

Shaking, she tried in vain to raise her limp body from the cold ground. Her thin arms collapsed under her weight, sending her crashing back onto the ground, face first. The psychically weakened woman repeatedly choked, disgustedly spitting out dirt from her wide open mouth. Mud-caked spit dribbled from her quivering lips. She stared blankly toward the ground, watching her saliva puddle, when she realized that the wolf had not yet attacked her unguarded back. A wave of beaming hope soared though her aching, tortured mind as she quickly turned. Strains of dirt and sweat clamped snowy colored hair fell limply cross her forehead. Her brief awake of hope vanished rapidly, renewing a stronger sense of dread throughout her. 

He sat upon his black stallion. He held the reigns tightly, causing the horse's head to dart up and down forcefully. The well portioned animal snorted, its frosty breath misted in the cold air, vanishing. The wolf silently growled at the fearful woman and obediently returned to his master's side, knowing that his purpose had been fulfilled. The wild dog pawed at the loose soil upon the ground, snarling and spitting. 

The horse shifted under the man's hefty weight and whined softly, its head darting again. The man rubbed a leathered gloved hand down the animal's muscled neck, soothing the horse's restlessness. He watched the woman quake on the forest floor, her gasping grew more rapid and fearful tears rekindled within her pain filled eyes of silvery blue. He evilly snickered, seeing her sudden spells of fear pleased the inhuman cruelty that lay deep within the dark boundaries of his cold heart. 

She had ran and he pursued her. The dark stranger loved a good chase and the fallen-from-grace beauty had given him one. Savage joy entered his shadowy emotions as he intensely contemplated his next move. 

The woman struggled on the ground, tried to escape the coolly burning stare of the man's silted eyes. Unsuccessful, she limply collapsed onto the ground, it dampness soaking the front of her thin gown. Cold chills fiercely ravished her body, numbing her. The wolf angrily snapped, forcing her fear to skyrocket throughout her stupefied mind. More tears of hopelessness fell. Her future lay within the hands of a monster. She would surely suffer, then die. 

The mysterious hunter gracefully removed himself from the horse's arched, muscled back. A keen smile of unforgiving pleasure to the prey's pain, covered the man's thin, white lips. The sickening crack of small twigs and crunching of leaves, sent shivers of horror down the sprawled woman's jello-like spine. Seeing her quivers, caused pricks of cruel pleasure to echo through the man's body. He licked his lips. The tightness from within his groins made him quiver with sudden anticipation of the events to come. He was feeding off her sweet pain and tantalizing torture like a vulture on dead, rotting flesh. A wonderful feeling. 

The evil being, grinning wickedly, entwining his long fingers into her moon silk hair and an upward motion, slowly tilted back her head. He forced her neck back into a painful angle, making her clench her teeth together. Pain soared throughout her aching scalp, moaning through her teeth, she forced her eyes to tightly close. 

Anger developed from deep within him. He wished for her beautiful eyes to be open, wanting her to see what was coming, to see her fate. His grip on her long hair tightened, making her gasp out as more enraged misery ran through her head. Tears of bittersweet agony ran down her cheeks as her eyes painfully opened to sadly stare at her captor. Lips parted as a tiny drop of dark, ruby-colored blood tricked out of the moist chambers of her mouth and down her chin. A painful gurgle rose out of her throat. He loosed his hold and the silent gurgles quickly ceased. 

The frightening male lifted his other hand and began to gentling trance the outlining curves on the bone of her chin, smearing the drying blood from her lips across the pale smoothness of her translucent skin. Shivers of fleeting joy ran though him, causing his dim, evil smile to widen. More sweet delight ricocheted in his tightening groin area, forcing him to wish for more of her suffering. 

He carefully placed the palm of his hand on the nook of her jaw. The man tilted his head to the side, his brown layers of dark hair haphazardly fell into his obscure eyes. He leisurely stared at her, those eyes of blackness dancing mischievously. 

"Where's the child?" He voice was unyielding and smooth with poisonous venom. His tone was icy and sharp. He tightened his grip on her hair, inducing her features to flinch with unbearable pain. 

Anger boiled within her blood, quickening the already rapid beat of her heart. She evilly glared at him, with once fearful eyes. Her mouth twisted into maddening snarl. 

"I will never tell you," she whispered hoarsely with bitterness. Her answer did not suit the one he had planned on hearing. Blood enriched with maddening anger, he clenched he teeth together and shook her head harshly. He then twisted her head to his face. She could feel the heat of his stale breath upon the graceful curve of the unprotected flesh on her neck. She tried the pull away, but his tight grip held her frozen in place. 

He nuzzled his nose against the tender flesh of her ear. Fear shook through her at his sudden conduct. She swallowed as he slowly backed away from her. His heat leaving tingling sensations upon her skin. Her heart beat faster and her breathing quickened. 

Unclenching his teeth, he breathed deeply, taking in the scent of her silky hair. In doing so, his actions renewed his thirsty lust for her. His pulse quickened and his sudden anger faded away. His eyes rapidly darted over her fear enhanced snowy features. His gaze fell on her quivering pale lips, caked with dried blood and soil. The dark man gently touched them with one finger, making her back arch and her full eyes flutter close. A single tear, enlaced with all her pains and sorrows, fell slowly down her mud stained face. 

The man evilly chuckled, pulling her closer to him in an upwards motion. He gingerly removed his finger and peered on, uncertain of what he was about to do. Wrapping his open arm around her slender waist, he jerked her head upwards again, forcing her lips upon his. 

Stunned, the woman struggled within his arms, but his iron grip held firm. She felt sickened and ashamed of her vulnerability towards his sudden aggression. His vigorous lusts peeking, the man threw her away from him. His adrenaline pumping wildly through his veins. He licked her bitter, copper tasting blood from his lips, satisfied of his handiwork. 

Terrified, his victim looked up at him, wide-eyed with abrupt shock and surprise. Her surprise quickly vanished and rapid anger surfaced, twisting her pretty features. Summoning the remaining strength of her aching body, the angered creature pushed herself forward on her palms and quickly spat into his face. 

The triumphant, sly smile on his face vanished. He wiped his face, angered. The man reached for her and sought hold of the smooth flesh of her neck. His grip on her throat tighten as his anger raged. She grasped for air while fanatically clawing at his hands. Her dirty nails dug deep into his soft flesh. He screamed as red blood surfaced from his scratches. 

The anger driven man loosed his hold on her throat and removed one hand entirely away from her. He swung his hand back and vehemently slapped her, allowing her to fall to the ground. The sickening snap of human bone echoed though the silent night. A wild howl pierced through the cool air. 

He glared to the ground where she lay, her body shook with violent convulsions. His wildly hard blow had snapped her pencil-thin neck in two. Bone stuck awkwardly out from beneath her pale skin. She had shaken herself to a limp and lifeless death. Her silver hair fell in sweeping strains across her face. Eyes of pale blue, laced with a hint of frail silver, stared on, glistening with fresh tears that will never come. Pale lips where smeared with the wetness of fresh blood. 

He spun away, sickened by her violent death. His adrenaline rush had worn off, leaving the beating of his once quickened heart thudding in his ears. The man had not wished her to die so soon, but the unexpected happened. He swiftly block all oncoming feeling of regret aside. Remorse was not part of his dark character, nor did he wish it to be. 

The man wordlessly remounted his awaiting black stallion, succeeding in not catching a glimpsed of the mangled body. He dug his heels deep into the horse's muscled flanks. The animal whined, tossing it's head and complied to its master's wishes by moving away from the moonlight clad corpse. 

-*)____________________-(___~*~___)-____________________(*- 

A bright flash of white light illuminated the scene of death, halting the rapid images of the nightmare to an end. 

Jareth awakened with a madding jolt. His sweat drenched sheets fell limply down to his waist. The cold air smacked to his hot, sweat covered flesh, sending feverish shivers crawling down his spine. Shaking, he gasped for air. The brightly vivid images were still fresh and deeply embed into his memory. Beams of blue hazed light reflected onto the paled features of Jareth's long face. 

He clutched the talisman from around his throat. It was made out of smooth, glossy metal. The silver metal was shaped into a triangle, top sharply tipped and the bottom legs curved into the top and extended into a half circle rather than an actual triangle. A crystal was fashioned into the middle near to the tip of the triangle, above it's arcing bottom. The crystal glowed with the eerie light from the cracks between his long fingers. It always did when he thought of her. 

The thoughts that lurked with his troubled mind scattered. Jareth dropped the talisman to his chest. It roughly thudded onto his bare skin. The warmth from his hands beginning on the metal soothed him, but only a little. The metal quickly turned cold. The dim light shone brightly into Jareth's mismatched eyes of blue and green, causing him to briefly flinching with awkward pain. 

He missed her. 

Jareth sighed, rubbing the sweaty palms of his hands against his face, eyes and then the puffed layers of his snow-blonde hair. His hands collapsed tiredly to the white bed sheets. He insanely glared towards the ceiling with obscure thoughts stirring within his mind. 

Despair, hate and a longing for compassion wondered aimlessly about his cramped, pain stricken head. He felt the urge to rub his aching temples, but made no movement to do so. Jareth felt weak and drained. He normally did after nightmares as violent as the one he had just undergone. He nosily exhaled, blinking the sleepiness away from his mismatched eyes. His eyes quickly darted around his bed chambers, searching for anything that would take his mind away from his soaring pains and deepening sorrows. 

Jareth lived within the once great castle beyond the Goblin City. The city was surrounded by lofty walls of stone, shrubbery and even forest. This maze, formally called the Labyrinth, once protected a royal family that ruled from inside its walls. After the overthrow of the Labyrinth kingdom, the castle and its maze fell into ruins. Its people relocated with the kingdom's new masters to a different part of the Underground, allowing the city to undertaken by other inhabits, the Goblins. The messy little creatures called the city and castle their own, hence the naming, the Goblin City. 

Homeless by the harsh realities of the world, it was these horrid creatures who cared for Jareth when he was a small child. Jareth grew up to their ways and culture. He joined in on their cruel games of play. One of these such games was capturing of wished away children. Once having the child, they then forced those who loved the captured to run the Labyrinth, in order to get their beloved back. As accepted, they always failed. The child was then transformed into a goblin, adding to the horde's large numbers. 

The goblins jokingly called Jareth the King of Goblins. He cruelly bossed them around, shouted at them and ruled over the mindless creatures. They did not care about his harsh leadership. Every goblin knew that he was not really a king, but they respected him as one. Mainly because Jareth was stronger in their magic than they were and he was also a lot smarter than they could ever wish to be. 

Distressed, Jareth fell back onto his pillow. Air whooshed out from his lungs. His troubled thoughts enwrapped their ghastly fingers about him, forcing him into a hazy state of consciousness. His eyelids flickered shut, in hopes of drifting into a peaceful sleep. 

Jareth quickly fell into a mindless sleep, his pain and pitiful sorrows fading. His chest rose gently with each passing breath. The talisman lay limpy upon his chest, still glowing of hazy blue light. Jareth had slipped back into the dreams of his beloved mother, how she had protected him and died in doing so. Jareth's naked body twisted among the coolness of his thin, silk sheets. This was turning out to be a sleepless night for the troubled man. 

_________________________________________________ 

_Disclaimer:_ _I do not claim to own the Labyrinth nor do I claim to own any of its characters. All characters and original plot ideas belong to the Jim Henson Company and LucasFilm LTD. However, I do own the ideas and characters not expressed in the film. Please do not take them._


	3. Chapter Three

Immortal By DarkAngel-Hotaru (_A Work in Progress_)

"_Is it all a dream, like Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, or Dorothy's in The Wizard of Oz? In my own it is. But it's all rather ambiguous-dream or reality? Fantasy or fact? It's whatever you like it to make it. Wherever it takes you to_." -----Jim Henson 

Chapter Three ________________________________________________

Ashten sat on his throne. His kingdom ran amuck around him, preparing for the arrival of the princess, the one chosen to be his queen. He silently prayed that the chosen Aboveground brat would be beautiful. It would humor his countrymen and rivals of the other realms if the wrench were not. He did not wish to be made a mockery of. 

The leader of the Underground tapped his finger against his dark wood of his throne. The softness of the brown animal pelt behind him on the throne's back cushioned him from the roughness of the large chair. Owl's feathers of golden-white, decorated the headpiece connecting to the back of the throne. The brightly colored feathers were spaced out evenly into a sweeping arc. Where the beautiful feathers attached to the next, a shining bloodstone ruby was placed. The throne was very gorgeous. Ashten loved beautiful things, especially those which belonged to him. 

He stopped his restless tapping, a glimpsed toward the vacant spot next to him. A throne for his future bride would eventually be placed there. Ashten snorted, discussed at the idea. He did not want the ugly wrench sitting near him. Let the Aboveground whore stand! 

His thoughts brought laughter to his somber mood. Ashten chuckled, somewhat humored by the wisecracks about the Aboveground creature. A few of his servants curiously turned away from their work to see what the laughter was about. Finding nothing of interest, they humbly returned back to their tasks. Quickly, his laughter faded, tolerating the openness of his mind wonder into solemn sulking. 

The king was a harsh one. He cared for nothing or no one. Ashten was a dark man by nature, an even darker man by sorcery. He had his kingdom by force, not heritage. The king's subjects feared him, obeyed him and even worshiped him. If they did not, then their death would soon follow. Ashten hated weakness. He prided himself on being strong and quick-witted. He ruled his kingdom with an ironclad fist and showed no mercy for weakness, treachery and ugliness. He sought perfection to its finest form and would do anything to achieve his dark goal. 

So how does a man like Ashten find himself within the mess of marring to an Aboveground girl? Simple. Ashten seeks the perfect kingdom, in order to achieve his goals; Ashten must comply with the set rules of his people. When Ashten forced his rule upon the people, a bloody war broke out between the two cultures of difference. The warfare ended with the death of the opposing party's royal family. A treaty of peace was sighed between Ashten's forces and the surrendered. The treaty stated that the new king should marry a maiden of the fallen people's choosing. The high mage chose the child, whisked the mother away to the Aboveground, for safekeeping. Near to her eighteenth year of life, the chosen is to return to her homeland, in order to secure that all of the terms of the treaty will be fulfilled. 

A dark fate? Ashten obscurely chuckled. A very dim lit fate indeed. 

-*)____________________-(___~*~___)-____________________(*- 

The trio arrived at the castle with remarkable timing. The journey that would have normally taken two to three days to complete, only took them one day. Much to Sara's relief, they did not travel to the castle that lay beyond the Goblin City. She had questioned her mother why, the older woman simply answered that nothing of any importance was there. Then she told Sara not to ask any more questions on the subject. Sara was stunned. She knew that there had to be some significance concerning the Labyrinth. Why else would she be having her nightmares about the place? Sara tried not to think of that dreadful place. She had much bigger things to ponder about, like her sudden marriage to a person she knew knowing about. 

When they entered the castle, the group stumbled upon the gate guardian. The leader of their group, the elderly man, whom Sara began to knowledge as Zyper, talked quietly to the guard about clearance into the castle. The guard simply shook his helmeted head and stubbornly stabbed his spear's pointed end onto the cobbled path. Dismayed at the guardian's actions, Zyper fidgeted and gloomily returned back to the awaiting group, shaking his wrinkled head. 

"He refuses to allow us to pass," Zyper bitterly remarked. Stunned, Lydia and Sara glanced at each other with disbelief. Lydia takes a step toward Zyper while placing a single hand onto the nearest of Sara's crossed arms. 

"What do you mean?" Disbelief cracks her voice as Lydia stared past the old man in order to evilly glare at the heavily armored guard. Sara repulsed by her mother's touch and shakes the unwelcome hand off. Lydia momentary glares in Sara's direction and swiftly continues on with Zyper, who quietly snickers at the actions between mother and daughter. Under hostile conditions, Lydia gritted her teeth together and wearily huffs. Being extremely annoyed, she spoke to Zyper. "What are his reasons?" 

Zyper glanced at Sara and uncertainly shook his head. "He doesn't believe that our Sara is who we claim her to be." It was Sara's turn to be confused. 

"Why?" Sara asked raising an eyebrow. Zyper did not answer her question. 

"The guard wishes to speak to you, Sara." The elder gestured toward the guard with a sweeping motion of his gnarled hand. Sara felt confused. She did not ask another question, even thought she wished too. Her eyes darted away from her companions, Sara uncertain of the guard's motives, took a step toward him. The guard jabbed his wooden spear into the ground again, making Sara jump. 

_Calm down Sara,_ she shakily told herself. _You have nothing to be nervous_ _about. Everything is fine_. Sara wanted to laugh. She was not fine. She was plucked away from her home and brought to some place from her dreams as a bridal sacrifice to some king. _Everything is just hunky dory_. Sara tried to ease the horrid worry that was rushing through her mind by introducing a false smile onto her face. It did not work, but at least she looked calm. 

Sara raised her eyebrows with surprise; he did not look that tough. He was tall, Sara noticed, but scrawny. His shiny, silver armor made up most of the guard's body mass. A sash of red embroidered with gold, was tied over his right shoulder and hung down to the left of his waist over his breastplate. A design of a furious lion killing a weakened dragon was sewn onto the sash. Obviously the kingdom's symbol Sara mused. He wore tight fabric of red; the same hue of the sash, on his arms and legs. Silver metal protected his knees, identical to the metal that fashioned his curved toed shoes. 

The guard watched, as she approached him. _A pretty, little thing, no doubt_, he contemplated chuckling to himself. His white mustache twitched with his laughter. The guard snorted. His graying hair had tickled his nose. He straightened his posture and knocked the end of his silver-tipped spear onto the ground, for the third time since the party's encounter with him. 

The king's gate guardian raised a bushy eyebrow of white-gray as the princess in questioning stopped before him. He cleared his throat, mustache twitching. 

"I have reason to believe that thee is a false princess and a spy." The guard coughed. Sara glanced at him as if he were crazy. She felt like laughing at the deranged person. Sara could feel her sanity was about to break. This had not been her day. Sara took a deep breath. 

"My name is Sara and I am not a spy." Sara told the guard sharply. 

"Yes, you are!" The stick thudded onto the ground once more. Sara felt like rubbing her aching temples. A headache was beginning to pour into the numbed depths of Sara's brain. This ridiculous guard actually thought she was a spy! She wanted to knock some sense into the scrawny man. Sara thought she surely would if he continued on with his redundant bumping of that stick onto the ground! 

Sara tried to control her raging anger. She smiled sweetly, battering her eyelashes at the guard. Sara had an idea. "OK. If I am spy, then who I am spying for?" 

The guard was troubled. He scratched under the edge of his silver trimmed helmet. Confusion developed over his features. His largely tanned nose jerked as he intensely thought about Sara's question. The thin line of hair under his nostrils twitched also. He stopped scratching and removed his hand. The guard's shaggy white hair fell limply into his blue eyes. The guard had been out foxed by Sara's quick reasoning. 

Puzzled, he quietly admitted to Sara, "I don't know, fair maiden." Sara happily smiled, her light green eyes flashing with sudden joy. 

"Then we can pass then?" 

The guard looked even more perplexed than he had before. He wiggled his nose, snapping himself out of his puzzled state. Shaking his head rapidly up and down. "Why... of course!" The guard exclaimed. He fumbled with the brass circle-shaped door handle of the gate's sky-towering oak door. The guard smiled sheepishly at Sara once he had full control over the door latch. He pulled the door open with one hand, revealing the castle to Sara and her party. The guard bowed before Sara, his armor clanking loudly together. "My Lady." 

Sara and friends rushed through the large oak doors. Sara was spellbound with awe. The sight before her was amazing. A structure of stone and wood loomed before her. Windows were cut into the massive walls of stone, allowing the warm sunlight to stream in. The towers leered into the pale blue sky, touching the puffy white clouds that aimlessly rolled by. 

It was an amazing sight for Sara, who had never seen a real castle up close before. She could not believe her luck. She was going to live here! Giddy excitement ran throughout Sara. A large grin broke over her face as she stared at the towers of wood and stone. Deep green moss enwrapped their roots into the cracks in the stone, allowing them to grow up the tower's dizzying incline. 

"Wow." Sara breathed. _Maybe this won't be so terrible after all_, she thought entering the castle's large oak doors. Relief surpassed her worries for the first time that day. 

-*)____________________-(___~*~___)-____________________(*-- 

Upon entering the grand castle, Sara was hurried away from her mother and Zyper by the castle's maids. They rushed her through the lavishly decorated halls. Sara wished to stop and gaze upon the beauty of the silk tapestries enlaced with silver and golden threads hanging about the walls of stone, but the maids would not allow it. Sara noticed that the floors were made out of polished marble swirled with white and creamy rose-red. Candlelit lanterns of tall brass structured poles with animal feet outlined the wide-spaced hall, for there was not a single window among the polished stonewalls. The air around Sara was lightly scented with the burning of wood and of the sweet smell of lavender flowers. This made Sara feel lighthearted and carefree. 

The maids ushered Sara into a room. Steam quickly overcame Sara, causing her to forcefully gasp and cough. One of the three stayed behind as the other maids rushed out. The girl who stayed was a fragile creature with thin lips and pretty eyes of amber gold. The handmaiden smiled sweetly at Sara's growing curiosity. 

"I am Elena, but you may call me Elf," she told Sara gently, pointing to herself. The softness of the Elf's voice soothed the remaining fears that still lurked within Sara. The girl's happy smile broadened. "Sorry for my sisters and my sudden rudeness, but the king wished for you to be prepared to meet him as soon as you arrived." 

Elf glanced quickly down and up Sara's red-dirt clad attire. "It looks like you could use a bath, my lady." Elf swiftly explained to Sara all the features of the bathhouse, and then quickly demanded that Sara should strip before her and allow Elf to bathe her. Sara was shocked and astounded at the young girl's startling commands. Elf giggled at Sara's Aboveground innocents. Removing her tiny hands from her lips, Elf quickly interpreted to Sara the castle's custom of bathing one of her 'stature.' 

Elf placed a hand on her flat chest, her eyes twinkling. "It is custom that one of high rank is bathed by her or his servants. I am told that is my duty to bathe you, by the king I might add." Elf told Sara harshly waving a finger before her paled face. Elf shrugged her shoulders and deeply exhaled. "Sorry, my lady." 

Seeing no way out her situation, Sara was reluctantly escorted to the bathing tub. Sara shockingly amazed to find the conditions of the bathhouse much different from that of her bathroom at home. 

This was nowhere close to a bathroom! 

An ovular pool stood before Sara. Lit candles surrounded the pool. Their wax trickling downward their long shapes, melting onto cold stone. The bathing pool's water was crystal clear. Delicate vapors of fog lifted from the surface of the water. Deep red petals drifted upon the water's gentle flowing surface. The heavy and sweet smell of roses filled Sara's senses. The water was scented with the fragrance. The shallow pool was outlined with dark gray bricks that slowly curved upward in the back of the pool behind a fairy statue. 

The statue was really a fountain fashioned out of hard gray stone. The fairy's wings resembled more of the pattern of butterfly's wings. The stone wings were embedded with glittering jewels and gemstones of every color. The fairy held a rose glazed pot on her shoulders. Crystal water poured from the pot's opening into the bathing pool. Tiny bell-shaped flowers dangled on the wall behind the fairy fountain. Their fragrances mixed with the scented from the perfumed water, claiming and relaxing Sara more than what she had been before. 

Sara was swiftly stripped of all her clothing and was escorted into the pool. The water felt hot against Sara's fair skin. She flinched, gritting her teeth. The hotness soon eased into warmness, causing Sara's quick nerves to unravel. The oddness of being bathed pricked at Sara with unease. Sara watched from the scent pool, the rose petals tickling at her naked flesh, as Elf reached toward a shelf lined with alabaster jars. She undid the golden cap of a jar and dipped her fingers into the jar. A pink colored paste appeared on Elf's lengthy fingers. She then wiped the paste onto a dampened cloth, lathering the rag. Elf turned to Sara with a skittish smile. 

"Please make this simple," Elf humbly begged to Sara as she neared closer to her with the soaped rag. The soap was scented with rose. This did not surprise Sara, she had already guessed about the bath's leading theme of scented rose. Elf began to rub the damp cloth onto Sara's flesh. Sara gritted her teeth, trying to control herself from fighting against Elf's gentle stokes. Soon Sara was soaped from head to toe. Elf placed the rag near to the tiny shelf of wood and selected a basin with warm water from the fountain. She poured the basin over Sara until she was free of the scented soap residue. Elf grabbed another jar and applied its contents to Sara's damp hair. She rubbed the lather deep into the roots of Sara's thick hair, removing the dirt and grit. She then reached for another small basin and dumped its contents onto Sara, rinsing her dark tresses free of the soapy foam. 

After about forty minutes of soaping and rinsing, Elf wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Smiling happily, she clapped her hands together. "All done." 

Sara glared evilly from behind her soaked tresses of dark hair. She mischievously smiled at the girl, whom sat on the side of the bath. A warm jet of water sprayed from Sara's mouth soaking Elf, sending them both into nervous fits of laughter. 

-*)____________________-(___~*~___)-____________________(*-

Sara was dried off and then directed to the next room. Sara and Elf said their good-byes and the handmaid swiftly departed. Sara was alone. The room was beautiful and dreadfully glamorous. Sara was surprised. She had expected a tall and dark tower, locked away from the rest of the world. 

The room was rather large. The walls were made of the same polished stone as the rest of the castle's walls. Two silk tapestries hung from them. There were no windows lighting the broad space, only two large candles that sat upon tall golden poles. A fireplace was located between them, fire burning, releasing a light pine scent into the air. The floor was of polished darkened wood. A bed that could fit roughly three full-grown men was placed in the center. Four posts of darkly stained cherry wood stretched out from the bed's four corners. Rose vines were curved on the wood's tough surface. Other furniture included a dresser with an almost full-sized mirror, dark leather chair and wardrobe. All of the wood pieces were darkly stained to match the color of the bed. 

Sara took a couple of steps toward the bed. Placing her hand on the pole, Sara glanced quickly around the room again. She could not believe what she was seeing. Her heart was beating a million times over from excitement. She felt like a princess within an enchanted fairy tale. Sara mindlessly ran her fingers down the smooth texture of the red stain bedcover. She stopped when her fingers came to an unfamiliar fabric texture amongst the bedcover. Glancing to the bed, Sara noticed her fingers touching the silk fabric of a beautifully made gown. Sara giggled, realizing the she was still wearing the velvet robe that Elf had given her. Sara quickly tried to dress herself, struggling with the folds of the gown. Laughter echoed from the doorway, startling Sara onto a heap on the bed. It was her mother. 

Lydia shut the door behind her and rushed to her daughter's aid. Gently lifting Sara from the bed, she straightened the silk of Sara's gown. Lydia skillfully laced the back and then lead Sara to the chair, which was near to the dresser. Opening one of the dresser drawers, Sara's mother removed several accessories and began to execute Sara's quick drying hair into an elegant hairstyle. Lydia's fingers gently touching Sara's scalp, relaxing her, but Sara could feel her unanswered question churning at the back of her brain. Her mind would not leave at her at peace until her nagging questions were answered. 

"Mother," Sara said softy. Lydia stopped parting and gently brushing the dark strands of Sara's hair. 

"Yes honey." 

"Why I am here?" Lydia tightly closed her eyes and searched her mind for an answer. 

When she did not answer, Sara pleaded again. "Mom?" Lydia's dark eyes flashed open at the sound of her daughter's voice. Snapping her away from her deep thoughts, Lydia picked back up her daughter's hair and continued styling. 

"Along time ago, this kingdom was at war. When the fighting stopped a treaty of peace was signed by the leaders of the feuding sides," Lydia began. "The treaty allowed the defeated to chose the bride of the new king as an offering of surrender and peace." 

Sara was confused. "What does any of that have to do with me?" Lydia chucked. "Does dad know about any of this?" 

"No. He doesn't, sweetie," she remarked to her startled daughter. "He doesn't even know that you're never going to return to him." Lydia dropped a finished strand of hair and picked a new, untamed one. "Sara, he isn't even your biological father. Your real father was killed in the final battle between kingdoms. Once I knew of your future, I ran away, in order to make sure that you would be safe. Your _father_ is a good man and a wonderful dad, but only a replacement." 

Lydia paused, thinking. Sorrow brewed within Sara. Tears began to prick at her eyes. "Why couldn't you tell me the truth?" Sara choked. She furiously blinked her eyes, trying to hold back her painful tears. Lydia deeply sighed, gently touching the curled ends of Sara's brown-ebony hair. 

"I thought about it a million-and-one times, Sara. Believe me, honey, I wanted too, but would you have believed me?" Lydia shook her head as the pains of the truth wrenched about in her gut. It saddened her to know that she had lied to Sara all these years. "I mean-- you destined to be marrying a king from a parallel world. It is an impossible truth for anyone to believe, even you Sara. That's why I haven't told you until now. I am so sorry." 

Anger replaced her sorrow for her lost father. "You could have tried!" Sara snapped angrily at her mother, but her sudden blood-raging anger vanished once she saw her mother's point. "I am sorry. I wouldn't have believed you. I just want to go home." 

Lydia sighed again. She could feel her daughter's pain and loneliness. She understood more than Sara would ever know. Desperate to ease Sara's suffering, Lydia squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "I know, love, but this is your home. It always has been. Now it is time for you to acknowledge that and take your place. Fate is a twisting path of loneliness and heartache, but it is also full of new experiences and hope. I know it appears to you, that your path has taken a turn for the worse, but things will get better. My advice to you is to forget the person you were and try to become the person you are." 

Patting her daughter's shoulder, Lydia removed herself away from Sara. She walked to the door, opened it and disappeared into the hall, shutting the door behind her. She felt ashamed and heartbroken. Lydia blamed herself from the source of Sara's unhappiness. She was a failure as a mother and protector to her only child. Sighing, Lydia walked down the hall, praying that her daughter could forget her pitiful soul. 

Sara was alone, completely. Her mother was a stranger and the only person who knew her, was far away from her. Sara felt helpless and bitter. Rejection to what she was and who she was about to become, coiled deep from within her. She wanted nothing to do with any treaty or kingdom. Sara wanted her father and the places she had know her whole life. She wished that her mother had never came for her. Damn everything. 

Heatedly pushing upwards with her arms, Sara removed herself from the leather bound chair. She mindlessly walked over to the dresser. Placing her hands firmly at her sides, Sara gazed into the hazed depths of the glassed mirror. 

A girl with eyes the color of waning jade stared back at her. Sara's full lips parted, showing half of her front teeth. She quickly closed her mouth, permitting the exquisite line of her high cheekbones to appear. Sara's brown-black hair was twisted into medium sized curls and following in gentle waves over the smooth, rose-scented skin of her shoulders. Shiny stones of frosted white glittered against the darkness of her hair. 

Her dress was made of fair silk. It bared her slender shoulders and tightly hugged the young curves of her chest and waist. The skirt flared out from the tight waist in a bell-like form. Sheer golden wildflowers were embroidered into the fine silkily fabric. The hem of the shirt was embroidered with shiny golden threads. There were no selves on Sara's gown, but she wore high, fingerless gloves of plain ivory fabric. The gloves were tipped into a V and looped around Sara's middle finger with a braided piece of gold thread. A small white crystal accented the V tip. 

_Become the person you are..._

Sara hopelessly exhaled; allowing her growing sorrow escape over paled her face. A tear laced with pity, ran down her cheek. Did she have a choice? 

_________________________________________________ 

_Disclaimer:_ _I do not claim to own the Labyrinth nor do I claim to own any of its characters. All characters and original plot ideas belong to the Jim Henson Company and LucasFilm LTD. However, I do own the ideas and characters not expressed in the film. Please do not take them._


End file.
